So Friday I woke up and quickly realized that I would soon be going into labor. I won't gross you out with all of the gory details but WHATEVER YOU DO you should never ever ever Google the words "bloody show".

I immediately went into a panic because I still had four days before my due date and I had a lot of important stuff left to do. I have to wash the bathroom towels! I have to Swiffer the bedroom! I have to dust the oven!

For some reason my nesting instinct waited until the 11th hour to kick in and I was NOT going to have this baby until I had checked every last errand off of the list. The first thing I had to do was drive to Wal-Mart and buy some of those "cleaning supplies" I'd heard so much about.

Once I got back from Wal-Mart I spent the next five hours ricocheting back and forth from making sure the floor was clean enough to eat off to Googling descriptions of various bodily fluids.

Apparently my computer decided to commit suicide as a result of all of the horrific images I was forcing it to display which threw me into a complete tailspin.

I can't go to the hospital if my Internet isn't working!

The contractions had started somewhere in between alphabetizing the microwave popcorn boxes according to calories and blow drying my loofah and now they were about 10 minutes apart.

Time was of the essence.

Right around the time the Indian customer service representative, her translator and I realized we would need an appointment with an exorcist to fix whatever had shut down our Internet access I noticed a lot of very strange things were coming out of me and I probably needed to start thinking about wrapping up my little spring cleaning projects.

I told her I would have to call her back because I was having a baby and called Nick and told him it was time to jet. He told me he only had four patients left to see so cross my legs and he'd be there in a flash.

Perfect - that gives me enough time to carry up the laundry from the basement and put all of the clothes away.

Meanwhile Ellie had woken up from her nap and was on all fours mimicking my Lamaze breathing in the corner of the living room and all I can wonder is if my therapist will give us a family discount.

My Mother-in-Law arrived to properly instruct both Ellie and me on our breathing technique and at one point I was certain she was going to have to strap on some surgical gloves and saw me off a biting stick from the Oak in the back yard because the contractions were all the while getting closer.

By the time Nick arrived they were 3-4 minutes apart and as I ran to the car he passed me in the driveway and told me he was going to grab a couple of towels.

Me: No! Get in the car... we have to go NOW!

Him: Are you sure you don't want me to grab a towel? They're right inside.

Me: No - I don't need one - I'll be fine. We have to go we have to go we have to go!

He reluctantly got behind the wheel and by the time we left the neighborhood I had about 237 more contractions and each of Nick's fingers were broken in fours. Right about the time we got stuck in Friday evening rush hour traffic my water exploded all over his passenger seat.

Me: Oh god... I'm SO sorry for the wrath I just unleashed. You got a towel in here?